The search is on – but where do I begin?

According to everything I am reading, I am supposed to really take a look at ‘who I am’ in order to be successful at this journey. I find doing that to be really difficult because I have spent years working on and refining who I am supposed to be. Does that make any sense?

If you were to ask me today “what is my greatest passion” I would have a very hard time answering it. It is so buried that it is going to take time to uncover. Every once in a while I get a glimpse into things I think I am passionate about…for a fleeting moment … but then I lose it.

I guess a good start would be to think about things that really move me – things that I really love. Here goes:

I love the woods, mountains, the smell of evergreen trees. I love the smell and the sound of rain in the forest in the early hours of the day. I love early mornings, the sounds of everything awakening – the misty light of the first ray of sun through the trees.

I love to listen to my daughter sing when she doesn’t realize I am listening. I love to hear her make up songs about magical horses and forests and princesses. I love to hear her explain to me how things work, why ants are strong, or why she wants me to make her wings so that she can fly wherever she dreams.

I love to get lost in books, in fantasy worlds where things are hopeful and beautiful and sometimes scary. I love to imagine that I am there, right alongside the bravest and most honorable characters, contributing to their struggle against all odds, and feeling the magnificent that comes from the bonds of fellowship or the amazing regard for those so valiant, brave and beautiful.

I love sound of music in my ears, drowning out everthing else so that I can be immersed in the emotion and so that I can be taken places as I ride amongst the notes. I love the symphony when it’s live, when I can feel the vibration through my sould and feel the tingle up and down my spine.

I love thunderstorms in the summer. I love the sound of rain on the roof and the rumbles of thunder and the thought that when the storm ends, everything will be so incredibly fresh.

I love the color of the sky at dusk when everything has an orange hue – almost like God has sprinkled the world with a dusting of gold glitter.

I love spending time with my son, when he forgets that he has to try to be cool, and he is himself again and we laugh together about small things.

I love to sit on my deck (in my neighborhood shire) and enjoy a glass of red wine with my friends, and discuss things we can do to make ours a better community.

I love the look on my dogs face when he sits at the foot of my bed, when he puts is head on my feet and lets out a big comforting *sigh*.

I love the autumn. The colors of the trees, the crisp night air, sweaters and jeans and boots. I love sweet apples, pumpkins and apple cider and driving through the rolling hills of the shenandoah valley. I love visiting the vineyard and sitting on the hill sipping wine and listening to live jazz while the kids roll down the hill in the month of October.

I love the smell of lavendar. In my soap, on my hair. In my bed and on my pillows. I love to crawl under the covers at the end of the day and breathe in the aroma of lavendar – the aroma of purple.

I love tomatoes. Yellow and orange and red with fresh basil and a sprinkle of fresh mozerella and olive oil.

I guess there are lots of things that I love—lots to be thankful for each and every day. I must remind myself to think about these things during those times when it seems hard to be positive.

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